


Forever

by Corvid_Knight



Series: Fantasystuck [7]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anniversary, M/M, as in cronus is the only one with a reliable time sense, fantasystuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:40:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25146364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvid_Knight/pseuds/Corvid_Knight
Summary: "Even if humans don't count it as an important annivwersary," Cronus adds, sliding an arm around your waist as Dirk moves to loop his around your neck, his other hand sliding up into your hair. "Sevwen's a number of powver—a milestone for fae, proof that vwe're really meant to have you."Cronus wakes Jake up early on a special day.
Relationships: Cronus Ampora/Dirk Strider, Cronus Ampora/Jake English, Dirk Strider/Jake English/Cronus Ampora, Jake English/Dirk Strider
Series: Fantasystuck [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/912336
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 of [Rarepairstuck 2020! ](https://rarepair-stuck.tumblr.com/)

Cronus wakes you up by nuzzling at the nape of your neck. You know even before you open your eyes that it's somewhere in the godforsaken period after even Dirk at his most unreasonable has thrown in the towel and come to bed, but before the sun's even though about showing its face above the horizon.

Your groan is nearly enough to wake Dirk up, judging from the way he rolls over and presses his face firmly into your shoulder. He needs his sleep, fae or not, so you keep your voice just a tad lower when you actually speak. "Cronus, I swear to bloody fucking hell—"

"Guess vwhat, Jake," he murmurs into your skin, mouth right against the line of your jaw and so soft, so _soft_ as his lips move with a kiss rather than another word. You lose the bright red thread of your irritation for a moment—what god decided to give you such a lovely selkie lover, again? Whoever they were, you think you're not showing enough appreciation.

Then again, he _did_ wake you at roughly fuck o'clock in the morning. "Cronus, if you've just got me up to play guessing games—"

"Vwe could play another kind of game too, chief." He nips oh-so-gently at your throat and you gasp; those teeth are meant for ripping fish apart and devouring them deep in the depths of the ocean, and sometimes he reminds you of that. "Probably should—it's an _occasion_ , after all. Gotta mark it."

"Cronus..." Ah, you'd love to do just that. It'd be an interesting exercise in control, not waking Dirk in the process. But—he still did wake you up. "Is the occasion what I'm guessing, then?"

"You could guess, yep. Vwanna do that?"

"Not really, no. I'd rather be sleeping."

"Ah, you're no fun." You expect another nip from him to go with that and get a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth instead, with Cronus's weight pressing gentle and heavy against your shoulder as he raises himself up to reach. "Remember vwhen you brought me back my coat?"

"How could I forget?" You want another kiss, though. Cronus hums as you let go of Dirk with one arm and reach back for him, letting himself be pulled down but not actually _helping_ much. Contrary bastard, but the kiss is sweet enough to make up for it. "Just because it was a while ago—"

"Seven years," Dirk says, from where he's still nestled against you. To your credit, you don't startle enough to pull away from Cronus—but you do twist to look at him, meeting lovely amber eyes still ever so slightly hazy with sleep. "Exactly seven. It's a good number, you know."

"Even if humans don't count it as an important annivwersary," Cronus adds, sliding an arm around your waist as Dirk moves to loop his around your neck, his other hand sliding up into your hair. "Sevwen's a number of powver—a milestone for fae, proof that vwe're really meant to have you."

"Of _course_ you're meant to have me..." This is where you're meant to be. You know it is. God, you wish your nanna could see you—she'd be proud, you think, that you've found something so perfect for yourself despite all the signs you showed of being a disappointment while she was still alive. She'd be proud that you're happy, that you're so _loved_ , that you're so...

So safe. So safe, held between your selkie and your fae prince, in this house with the children who might not be your blood but are still _yours_ no matter what. She was always proud of you, but you think now she’d have a reason.

"Jake?" Dirk asks, gently. Then, a little bit sharper and a lot more urgent, " Cronus, stop—he's crying—"

"Am I really?" Oh, yes, you are—you can hear it even if you don't feel it yet, how your voice has gone thick and blurry. A sob that's a good deal more alarming than how you actually feel forces itself out as Cronus and Dirk both withdraw; you roll to your back, try to grab for them both at once. "No, don't—come back, darlings, I'm just—"

Hmm. You're just what? You don't think you can finish that sentence just now, but Cronus at least doesn't need you to—he scoops you up as soon as you ask him to come back, folding you up in his arms and holding you close, surrounding you with the faint scent of the sea. Dirk holds back, of course he does—well, until Cronus groans and reaches out to catch his shoulder and drag him in as well.

And again, you're caught between them, face pressed to Cronus's shoulder, with Dirk pressing worried little kids to the nape of your neck. And again you think of the love you expected as a child and the love you've received in your life and oh, it's so much. That's where the tears come from.

"I'm alright," you tell them, a bit muffled by Cronus's shoulder but more than understandable to both of them. "It's just—it's so much, Dirk, Cronus, it's so _much_ , I never—this isn't what I ever imagined I'd have."

"It's less than you deserve," Dirk murmurs from where he's laid his head against your shoulder, breathing warm and slow against your skin. "I love you."

"I lowve you," Cronus echoes, pressing a kiss into your hair. "Sevwen years more, and another sevwen, until there's no more numbers to count."

"Forever." Dirk's voice is low and sincere, and his grip tightens ever so slightly. "We're yours, you're ours."

"Forever." You whisper it. One word, and it means so much, the audible promise of the twin rings around your finger. _Forever_ , you will be part of this, part of _them_ , forever.

It's more than everything you ever wanted.


End file.
